The Permanent Kind of Temporary
by Dango-sama
Summary: One feather-wearing, narcissistic fifth seat. One alcoholic, chain-smoking sixth seat from Hell. Sake. Sword fights. Handcuffs. Oh yes, there will be blood.


Title: The Permanent Kind of Temporary

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: 11th Division, OC

AU... 'cause it's easier to write :D

Pairing: Yumichika/OC... Yep, you read that right.

Romance, Humour, with a dash of Action, and a spoonful of Drama for

good measure.

Rated M for hot scenes of, ahem, "love".

A/N: Uhm... What can I say? Sakurako was an RPC turned OC, and now

she's here. Yes, Yumichika is straight here. And don't worry, Sakurako

is no longer an RPC, because, hey, it would get awkward writing a

lemon with her and then role-playing her XD. So, Bleach is not mine,

Sakurako is, and reviews are love. Onward!

WARNING: This contains lime, and some dirty themes. Because Sakurako

and Yumichika are both closet perverts.

Summary: One feather-wearing, narcissistic fifth seat. One alcoholic,

chain-smoking sixth seat from Hell. Sake. Sword fights. Handcuffs. Oh

yes, there will be blood.

Story:

Chapter One: I curse myself for being born on November fourth

It all started with a simple comment. That's it, that's all.

But that comment flung the shit that would later hit the fan, and

subsequently attract the shit-hawks that came to feed off their

misfortune.

It was the holiday season in Seireitei. Almost everyone was

celebrating, lest the other residents' happiness and cheer be shoved

in your face. The holidays were also a prime time for parties,

especially for the Eleventh Division, because, really, who doesn't

love a good drink on someone else's tab? Ikeda Sakurako, current sixth

seat, wasn't even entirely sure whose tab they were using, all she

knew was she wasn't paying, and that was good. Her dark brown eyes

scanned the bar- Kenpachi was talking loudly with another captain

(presumably Kyouraku, as she could see pink), about who had the nicest

chest in the Gotei Thirteen. 'Probably Rangiku, 'cause it sure as Hell

isn't me,' she thought dryly, sparing a glance at he strawberry-blond

drinking buddy on the stool next to her. Ikkaku was trying to pick a

fight with someone who wasn't responding or in the mood, which just

resulted in him getting pissed. And Yumichika was-

"Mou, Ikeda! Have another shot!" Matsumoto yelled over the

other voices, stopping Sakurako from her quest to find the pretty

fifth seat. "Rangiku, I've already had eight! I'm going to get tipsy

soon!" She hollered back. It was true, because both Sakurako and

Matsumoto had a reputation of being the females most able to hold

their liquor in all the divisions. Between the two, there was almost

no man they couldn't out drink (Renji, Iba and Hisagi were among their

conquests).

"So? Make it nine!" She laughed, signaling the bartender. Cups

were filled, and only then did Sakurako swivel around to the left. She

finally registered who it was; Yumichika, prettily taking a sip from

his drink. 'Asshole', She thought. 'He could've said hi at least...'

As if on cue, he waved slightly. She scowled. He ignored her, and

looked over her to talk to Matsumoto. "When did you get here?" He

questioned. They had been here for three hours, and she hadn't been

there when they arrived. "Half hour, why?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Just wondering. Bartender!" Sakurako sighed lightly. Yes, she knew

the fifth seat saw her as an irritance, but he didn't have to be such

a jerk about it.

He then turned to her, eyes glinting slightly. "Ikeda-chan," He

said, a small, evil smile slowly spreading over his features. "When's

your brithday?" She arched an eyebrow. Weird question. "November

fourth, why?" She asked, suspicion blatant in her tone. "Well, I

overheard the mot interesting discussion about birthdays the other day."

"Oh? And what was the idea?"

"Well, the average gestation for a person is nine months, correct?"

"Right, so?"

"So, that means one's parents would have had to had relations nine

months prior to the date of birth."

"What are you getting at?"

He smiled sweetly. "It means, Sakurako, that your parents had

to 'go at It' over the holidays. Get it?" Her jaw went slack. He had

just completely ruined the season for her, as it would now be forever

tied to images of her parent's naked bodies intertwined together. She

let out an involuntary shudder, and he laughed. So did Matsumoto, but

she was too drunk to remember the day after. "Jackass! Thanks a lot!

Now I can't even enjoy my damn drink..." She mumbled the last bit,

fury petering out near the end. "So order a better one." She huffed.

He was infuriating sometimes. "They all taste the same..." She

muttered under her breath.

"No, they don't."

"Yes they do."

"No, they really don't."

"Oh fuck off, Yumichika."

"Now, that's not a very nice way to speak to your superior, is it?"

"One seat, Ayasegawa. One fucking seat."

"And that one seat gives me authority over you."

She shot him a look that spelled death. "I said fuck off." She

hissed, turning the stool towards Matsumoto, only to find her friend

missing. Perfect. Now she was stuck with the Fruitcake for company.

She 'Tch'-d under her breath and took another drink. "I thought they

all tasted the same," He quipped. "I thought you said they didn't,"

She shot back. It would've gone on like this for hours, had someone

not started playing music just then. It started soft, then slowly

built in volume, eliciting a hush over the room. She and the Fruitcake

sighed simutaineously in annoyance as, one by one, couples began

pairing off to dance. The whole love thing was of no intrest to either

of them. Sex was another matter, but love? Yumichika dated, but no one

was quite up to his standards. Sakurako had had her heart ripped out

and curshed too many times to care anymore.

"I don't suppose you're intrested in a dance?" He drawled. She

snorted. "And have to look at you and your feathers with a straight

face? Hell, no." He sat up, miffed at her comment. "At least I don't

have to worry about my partner informing me that my breasts are not up

to standards." A poison smirk. She inwardly cringed at the memory of a

durnken Ikkaku telling her just that. She broke his jaw, of course,

and while the resulting fight ended in his favour, she felt she had

made her point. "He's not my partner, first off. He's like the jackass

older brother I never had. And second, where do you get off telling me

I have small boobs? Last time I checked, a C cup is classified as

average."

"I never called them small. I said your partner thought they were

small. And didn't you guys sleep together once?"

"Once. Like, twenty years ago. Worst sex ever. We were both too drunk

to do anything right. And weren't you sworn to secrecy?"

"Maybe."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Fucker."

"Skank."

"Fruitcake."

He glared hard at her. Of all the insults she could've fired

out, she chose the one that was absolutely taboo. Realizing her grave

error, she slapped a hand over her mouth almost as soon as the word

was out. "I, uh-"

"Now, why would you call me something as ugly and disgusting as

a fruitcake?" He practically purred. Damn, she was in trouble now. "I

personally think-" He cut off to glance around the room, "That I am

more like that red velvet cake over there." He pulled a smirk that was

nothing short of seductive. She mentally cursed herself. "Listen, I

really don't want to hear-" But before she could finish her protest,

he had begun to speak again. "First off, the outside is more than just

a little aesthetically pleasing. The colour is something to be envied

by all other, less-superior flavours. Then there's the taste. Smooth

and delicious, something that melts in your mouth and leaves you

begging for more." The more he described himself- err, the cake, the

more uncomfortable Sakurako became. "Also, if you think about it-"

"Okay, okay! Stop! Seriously, I get it! You've made your damn

point. You win. Just... Please stop talking!" An incredibly red-faced

Sakurako interrupted loudly. Honestly, this was excruciating for her

to keep listening to. Not to mention that fact that she was slightly

turned on by his words and tone of voice. That was obviously the

alcohol's fault, because really, what other explaination could there be?

His self-satisfied smirk was met with one of her patented Ikeda-

Approved Glares. She was about to shoot off another remark, when she

felt a sharp tug on her arm. "Ne, Ikeda, why're you always so pissy?"

Matsumoto interrupted. "I mean, you never smile, unless you're beating

the crap outta someone. What gives?" Sakurako blinked. She could

almost taste the alcohol on he friend's breath. So she was drunk

already? That was quick. Yanking her arm from Matsumoto's grip, she

cooly answered, " That's not true. I smile when I'm drunk, when I'm

smoking and after good sex." Matsumoto folded her arms across her

chest- quite a feat, considering the size of her breasts. "That

doesn't count. I think it's because you need a boyfriend," She said

matter-of-factly. Sakurako gagged. Yumichika began to laugh beside

her. "Fucking- Are you serious? I'm fine. Fine. I don't need anyone,

or a love life," She growled. "What love life?" Yumichika asked

innocently. "You just shut the Hell up." Another exchange of a smirk

to a scowl was made between the two.

She sighed heavily. "I really hate you sometimes, you know

that?" He smiled in a sickeningly sweet manner. "I know."

•••

She had no Idea how much she had drank in the two hours that

had passed. She was more than buzzed, and alone at the bar. Matsumoto

had long since disappeared somewhere with Hisagi, maybe even in the

bathroom. She sort of maybe remembered briefly flirting with Izuru. It

had led to no where fast, obviously. She did once have a small crush

on the man, but they were hopelessly incompatible. He was quiet and

sweet-tempered. She had a habit of yelling in people's faces and being

a general bitch.

With another swig of the liquor, she glanced around the almost

empty room. Everyone had either gone home or passed out. Not nearly as

drunk as she wanted to be, she took another drink, relishing in the

feeling of the sake burning her throat. A heavy sigh, and she turned

to the bartender. "Another round, if you don't mind," She said. The

middle-aged man behind the counter shook his head. "Can't. I have to

cut you off. Not to mention the fact that I'm closing up in ten

minutes." Disappointed, she said, "I understand. Any chance I can

crash in your back room?" He shook his head again. "Sorry. I'm pretty

sure it's occupied, y'know what I mean?" She laughed humourlessly.

"Yeah. It's just I think I might pass out before I get home..."

"Know anyone who can walk you back?"

"I think everyone from my division left..."

"Baldy and Eyebrow boy are still here. Didn't you walk in with them?"

Surprised at his accurate description of her... People, she

swiveled around. Sure enough, there they were. Yumichika was watching

Ikkaku hit on some semi-unconcious girl, no doubt mentally filing this

incident away for future blackmail.

She inhaled deeply, then gave a tired smile to the bartender.

"Thanks. Guess I'll collect my idiots an go home, ne?" He laughed

quietly. "Sure. I'll put it on the tab. And Ikeda? Do us both a favour

and don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I make no promises."

"You're a real piece of work, Ikeda."

"I've been called worse. Take care."

"Mm. You too."

She hopped off her stool (given the fact that she only stood

five-foot-four, her feet were several inches off the ground), and

began to slowly make her way across the bar. 'No reason to rush my

next headache,' She thought bitterly. If she knew her division's fifth

seat, then he would no doubt have a scathing remark about her current

appearance. Damn narcissist and his stupid-ass feathers.

When she was about three steps away, Yumichika finally noticed

her presence. "I thought you would have passed out by now," He

sniffed. She rolled her eyes. "Mm, whatever. I need you to take me

home." He quirked an eyebrow, and she immedately realized how what she

just said came across. "Let's try that again. I need someone to take

me back, otherwise I might pass out in a ditch or something. And

Ikkaku looks a little preoccupied, so you have to do it." She shifted

her weight to her other foot, and awaited his response. A knowing look

flicked across his features. "Ah, that's right, that happened to you

once, didn't it?"

She nodded. "Right. And that was unpleaseant beyond all

believeablity. I woke up with some homeless guy spooning me." She

made a face. "Why should I?" He asked smartly, crossing his arms and

turning to face her. She sighed. "I... Have no good reason, just...

Please? Please help me out this one time, an I'll owe you one."

"Owe me two and you have an escort."

"Fine, fine, sure, whatever."

"And you can't be a bitch to me."

"Then you can't be snide and condescending."

"Agreed."

They both turned to Ikkaku, who literally had the woman passed

out on his arm. "Later, Ikkaku. I'm taking Ikeda back." He nodded

absentmindedly. "Have fun, and don't forget the handcuffs," Sakurako

purred. He mumbled something unintelligible, no doubt a snappy

comeback to her remark.

She nodded to Yumichika. "Let's go," He said, starting for the

door. She followed closely behind, making sure to keep up.

•••

She sucked in a breath of cold air. The winter chill was a

sharp contrast to her liquor tainted breath, which was warm on her

tongue and throat. He showed no break in his stride when then stepped

out, and she bit back a comment that compared him to a marble statue.

Not that he would have been offended at first, until she specified

which statue. Then he may have pushed her into the ditch and left her

there. She could almost picture his expression when he explained what

happened to her body when they found her. 'No sir, I was not aware

that a family of small vermin had taken up residence in her hollowed

out carcas.' She snorted at the picture of his perfectly feighned

innocence when he would be questioned by the authorities.

He stopped abrubtly and turned around to face her. "Something

funny, Ikeda? Or are you just that wasted?" He leaned in close to her

face. Her cheeks became more flushed than before. No more than four

inches separated their lips. She drew back a bit. "Ah, no. Just

wondering how far we are." He, too, pulled away. "Not far. Can you

stay standing for another ten minutes?" She nodded briskly, preferring

to keep her mouth shut at this praticular time. "Good, because I would

be less than thrilled if I had to carry you back." Her light blush was

replaced with a sly smile. "Aw, are you volunteering? And here I

thought you didn't like me." Without another word, he turned around

and continued to walk. She blinked twice and continued to follow. 'The

Hell was that?" She thought, brow knitting in confusion. That never

happened. He never got that close. Hell, she didn't even think he had

even touched her before. Like, not even to hit or something.

She was having a hard time keeping up. He was more than likely

much, much more sober than she was, and as such had no trouble moving

forward. Sakurako was a different story. She would stumble

occasionally, not quite falling, or maybe stray off to the side a bit.

Maybe it was her imagination, but he seemed to slow down a little for

her to allow her to catch up.

By the time they had reached the Eleventh Division barracks,

she felt as though her legs would simply buckle at any moment.

"Where's your quarters?" He asked, glancing sideways at her. She

blinked. "Wha...?" He sighed, "Your apartment. Where is it?" She

wrinkled her nose. "Well, let's see. Since I rank one seat below you,

it would stand to reason that I live across fom you. Duh." He prettily

scowled down at her. "You could have just told me."

"Yeah, but that wouldn't be any fun."

"In that case, I'll leave you to open your own door. Think you can

manage?"

"What the Hell happened to not being snide?"

"Hey, I fufilled what was asked of me. The conditions no longer apply."

"Izzat so?"

"It is for me. You still owe me. My first favour? You're on newbie

sorting duty tommorow. We're recieveing some new recruits, and you're

going to be running drills."

"The Hell I am."

"And my second favour? You can't be a bitch to me. Again. Ever. It's

annoying and unsightly."

"Fuck no."

He shrugged. "Then see what happens," he said. "What? What do

you plan to do to me?" Her tone was challenging him to do anything. As

far as she was concerned, she was totally untouchable in this

situation. He narrowed his eyes, and she stared back with indigance.

"What I can do to you?" he asked softly, "If you continue to play this

game with me, Ikeda, I will show you exactly what it is I can do to

you." She glared sharply. "What? Come on, let's play. What can you do

to me?" She moved forward a few steps, almost completely closing any

distance between them.

"Fine. I was going to be the mature adult here, but that's

clearly not going to work with you." Before she could form a reaction,

he had placed both his hands on her upper arms and pushed her against

the wall. "Blatant acts of insubordination will not be tolerated,

Ikeda," he whispered hotly next to her ear. She shivered. This was

terrifying. This was not what she expected at all. Her breath became

shallow, and her mind completely coulded over. If his intention was to

kill her, then she didn't stand a chance. Even when she was sober, the

difference between the abilities of a sixth seat and that of a fifth

seat were vastly different.

His eyes bored into hers, and she felt so very exposed. She

wanted to hide, to run into her house and sleep off the inevetable

hangover. Yumichika was having none of her cowardice. A small part of

her wished that he would simply hurt her and move on. The other part

wished to stay like this. Face to face, chest to chest, it had been

too long since anyone had been this close to her.

She panicked when he pressed his lips to hers. Froze

completely. Sakurako was sure that she stopped breathing at first.

When she did breathe in, it was in a loud gasp against his mouth. He

wasted no opportunity she offered, and took this chance to glide his

tongue past her lips and into her mouth. Her hands remained limp at

her side, but she would later recall the distinct feeling of him

lightly running his fingertips up and down, almost as teasing as his

tongue.

A part of her mind numbly wondered what Matsumoto would think

of her right now, pressed against a wall and being kissed by a man she

regularly had homicidal thoughts and wishes for. Matsumoto probably

would have commended her tenacity. Had her mouth not been occupied,

she would have laughed, half at her friend, and half at her own lack of

will-power. God, she was pathetic sometimes.

His hands wove around her waist as he attached his mouth to he

neck, hearing her moans and gasps as he made his way around. He hit

the sweet spot on her neck, and she let him know by involuntarily

bucking her hips into his. He let out a pleased growl against her skin

as he began to lick and suck at the spot, marking her darkly. "A-

ah..." she gasped. The fact that he was now biting down -hard- was

enough to make the present ache between her legs even more profound.

As if by magic, her arms seemed to lift themselves up and around his

neck, pressing them closer together. The contact of his heated form

was driving her crazy, and she wanted him. She suddenly wished she had

worn a bra tonight when she felt her nipples stiffen as the kiss

intensified.

At this point he had moved down to suck on her collar bone, and

she made a move to wrap one of her legs around his waist, grinding her

hips into his. He hissed lightly as she dug her fingernails into his

shoulder blades, and he bit down hard on her skin. He was not a stupid

man, and could tell exactly where this would go if he continued. He

had meant just to invade her space, to psych her out into obedience.

He had to be drunk, otherwise, there was no way he would have touched

her. Not at all, not ever.

Just as Sakurako was making a move to grab his pants, he pulled

away, unwarpping his arms and stepping back. Sakurako backed into the

wall, allowing herself to slide onto the floor. "It's late," he said,

regarding her cooly, "You should go to bed. The grounds will not be

cleaning themselves." She could only nod dumbly as he walked to his

door, and watch silently as he closed it behind him without another

word. She took a few shaky breaths, before pulling an almost-empty

cigarette pack and lighter from her pocket. As she inhaled deeply, she

wondered what the fuck had just happened. More importantly, she was

pissed that he didn't finish what he started. Now she was aroused and

confused. With no other options, and a dwindling cancer-stick supply,

she picked herself up and entered her apartment.

What she needed was a cold shower, and what she wanted was to

get off. As she flopped on the couch, she groaned in frusteration,

rubbing her temples in annoyance. She sighed. Cold shower it is. She

reflected briefly as she stripped. He tasted like imported liquor and

exotic spices. She licked her lips, hating him for possessing such an

addicting flavour. This was all his fault.

•••

She tasted like heavy sake and peppermint.

They were not flavours that one would generally put together,

but she pulled it off just fine. In fact, he mused, when he had tasted

her mouth, he had thought it to be delicious. Just as the flavour of

her skin. Vanilla and plum blossom. He was honestly surprised that

someone like her would dare to wear a scent so feminine and soft. Then

again, with her brash manner and brave front, Ikeda Sakurako made it

easy to forget that she was, above all, a woman. A woman who clearly

wanted him, at least, wanted him at that praticular moment.

He sighed. As appealing as that sounded (and, at that moment,

he would have taken her), he was aware of the massive regret come

morning. What had surprised him most about the encounter was her

reaction. He expected her to at least protest, maybe try to swat him

away a little. Instead, she had reacted as if he was the greatest

thing since sliced bread. Like she was willing to take him on right

there in the hall.

God, but she was strange, though. She wasn't ugly, but she

wasn't beautiful, either. Had he just passed her by on the street, he

wouldn't have even graced her with a glance. She was almost painfully

average. Dark hair, dark eyes, shorter stature, skin that maybe spent

too much time training in the sun... There was nothing outwardly

special about her.

Personailty was a completely different animal. She was loud.

She was constantly pissed off at someone or something. He didn't doubt

that she was physically stronger than a substantial handful of men.

She acted like she constantly had something to prove, which, given her

life prior to becoming a shinigami, really came as no surprise. Well,

she sort of did have something to prove, being one of the ever-

dwindling handful of women in their squad. He was also certain that

she wouldn't mind giving anyone who insulted her a good what-for. She

was a fighter by nature, and it came out in almost everything she did.

Almost. He knew for a fact that, when she needed it to be, her

etiquitte was spectacular. She was the kind of shinigami who was

perfect for infiltration and information-gathering because of her

seamless ability to blend in with anyone, from the ladies of high-

society to the prostitutes of Rukongai. She was fiercely loyal to

anyone she thought deserving of it, and was the kind of friend who

wouldn't dream of letting you do something stupid without her.

He was drunk. He had to be. He couldn't even think of a better

reason why he would kiss her if he had been sober. Maybe he should

have left early, like he wanted to. He wasn't a lightweight, but sake

did funny things to his limitations and inhibitions.

He blinked a few times, eyes locked on his door.

One thing was for sure.

That bitch across the hall was one Hell of an enigma.

•••

A/N: I SO don't like how I ended that, but I couldn't really come up

with something better, either... Anyway, what did you think?Love it?

Hate it? Think I'm writing like for a sue? I swear that kiss will be

an important plot point, it's not just random... I dunno. Should I

even continue?

By the way, if you plan to flame/hate, please consider the following:

1. Is what I'm about to say an actual criticism, or am I just being an

ass because I can?

And 2. Will she even care if I flame her?

I don't know about the first one, but I definitely know the answer to

the second.

Anyhorse, you be nice and click that review button, k? Awesome


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